


One Afternoon In The Strawberry Fields

by SrtaTropicalia



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Gen, How Do I Tag, One Shot, Original Character(s), Persephone - Freeform, Rick Riordan Demigod Universe | Riordanverse, Thinking, What's the meaning of life really, and planting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SrtaTropicalia/pseuds/SrtaTropicalia
Summary: In the end of the afternoon, Dan saw himself in the middle of a large space of soft, fertile dirt. The curls of his hair were stuck to his forehead, soaked in sweat, and he had a smile on his face. Also, he was almost sure that the smell from the excrements would not get out so easily from his clothes (or from his skin, really). But! Look around! That ground, so wrecked and dead, had been reborn. And, now, it was ready to receive life, yet again.Dan stood still for what felt like days, smelling the earth and feeling the life just about to wake up around him.OrA kid plants stuff while thinking about the intricacies of life, death and rebirth in nature.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	One Afternoon In The Strawberry Fields

**Author's Note:**

> In which I describe the interior of a hypothetical and not at all practical Cabin because this is my story and not yours

On the day following the Great Fire In The Strawberry Fields of 2020, Dan woke up with the sun.

If anyone had asked, Dan probably would say that he was fine, thank you very much, and ready to spend one more day helping around Camp! But, even if he tried to keep a positive attitude, the things were not so black and white like they seemed. Because, of course, everything Dan wished for was to do something good to Camp Half-Blood and the people living in it. Dan wanted to help them the same way that he had been helped by them. Camp was a place for dreams, a land full of mythical monsters and fantasy. It was just a wonderful place for any child or teenager to spend their summer in.

Dan let out a sigh. And then grimaced. No, he was not going to let himself feel down today. And, with that thought, Dan left his bed.

Not really having a destination, he stopped in the middle of his Cabin’s main room. Around him, big and comfy beds were placed beside the walls, bedspreads printed with lovely flowers topping them. The floor was wood, and the walls had simple stone pillars on the corners, but these were not the details that grabbed the attention: these were the plants. They were in each and every space of the room, in all the free place that was to be found on the floor, piled up in shelfs by the walls, hanging from the ceiling. They had a myriad of flowers, all of which, Dan supposed, would bloom in spring. The vases, that also adorned the place, had been a collective effort from him and his fried, Poli. They had passed all of last summer painting little pottery vases provided by the Camp Arts and Crafts class, in an effort to make the interior of Persephone’s Cabin livelier.

The result was more than satisfactory. They had even succeeded in moving more plants inside, putting them in the spaces reserved for campers that, for now, didn’t exist. That really had made the Cabin look a lot happier, the touch of color filling the simple interior. But, that day, for the first time, under the rising sun light, it was as if Dan appreciated the real beauty of the room for the first time.

Pale curtains made from a light material fell into long soft waves. Even if there was no wind, the enormous pieces of fabric floated, moving and letting the light pass through them, from dim to bright, depending on the position of the fabric. Even with all the curtains closed, the room was really not that dark. And that was probably intentional, a strategy to give the plants inside all the light they needed, at each and every moment possible.

For a second, Dan thought about his mother, a deity that he had never met but always heard a lot about. Persephone, the goddess of spring. Persephone, the goddess of flowers, plants and everything nice, but that passed half the year hidden in the shadows. Dan asked himself if that was the reason why the Cabin could not stay dark, if that was because it wasn’t Persephone’s nature to hide from the sun. But, then, Dan threw away that ridiculous thought. Ok, it _was_ in the fundamental nature of his mother to be under the spring sun, but Persephone also carried, among her titles, the position of Queen of The Underworld. The land of the dead also was a part of her nature, not a inch less valid if she grew to love the dark, instead of being born into it. And those were the two sides of the same coin that made Persephone: life and death.

Besides the fine curtains and the constant state of brightness of the Cabin, another element that called for attention were the enormous windows. When Dan had seen the Cabin for the first time, even he had to admit that it was one of the prettiest constructions of Camp Half-Blood. Even not knowing a drop about architecture, even without having a clue that he, one day, was to live in that Cabin, Dan had loved everything about it. And the main reason were the windows, that covered the entirety of the walls, from the floor to the ceiling, in a mixture of glass and intricate metal. His Cabin was like a green house, glass walls, retractable ceiling e with the bonus of a self-regulating made to keep the cabin on a pleasant temperature. In short, it was Dan’s favorite place in the whole world.

Dan took a deep breath. If he paid enough attention, he could hear the sounds of the forest, the voices of the Nymphs mixed with the swift sounds of the floating curtains. And, for a moment, in the middle of that Cabin, surrounded by his plants and full of a sweet feeling of warmth, Daniel O’Reilly had the surety that he was home.

The process of getting up and putting on clothes was so natural to Dan that he could not avoid a smile to fill his lips. The highlighter orange t-shirt from camp, so familiar, descended on his bare chest in an almost gentle fall. The jeans and the shoes came next, both obviously old and covered with a fine layer of dust that, by this point, could just as well be a permanent part of the fabric. At last, Dan put on his beloved leather belt, where he had secured several little bags containing a carefully arranged collection of seeds. But for today, they weren’t really needed. The only thing that he would need were the strawberry seeds, that he could find in the storage shack, just outside the Planting Fields.

When he felt like the little bags were good to go, Dan went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and washed his face. He smiled for himself in the mirror before quietly going out of the Cabin.

To see the camp so serene and calm in the first hour of the morning never failed to make Dan’s hearth beat faster. And it was such a gorgeous vision, so still and simple, sweet and genuine. Cabins shone under the morning sun, threes leaving elongated and soft shadows on the ground, one or two satyrs walking around in the grass, nymphs laughing in the outskirts of the forest. The campers were waking up too, despite the early hour, and their sounds were not enough yet to break the calmness of the morning. And, walking around that place, Dan just knew that his body pulsed _home, home, home,_ almost as if it was a song.

Recently, Dan was struck with the realization that there were some moments you could not go back to. It had been like that with his afternoons in the Irish Community, little idyllic pieces of his childhood that would not come back. It had been like that with his friends from fourth grade, a group he had finally managed to connect with, but soon left him behind when he failed that school year. And, one day, his time at Camp Half-Blood would come to an end too. And he understood that, he understood that almost as well as he understood the passages of the seasons. He understood that nothing could be done but enjoy everything while it lasted and don’t lament a future that had not yet arrived.

For a brief moment, Dan was overcome with sadness with the prospect of losing an entire day fixing his dumb mistakes. He saw a small group of nymphs going towards the volley court, tossing a ball between them as they walked. He could be joining the group, and just passing by and hearing their excited chatter made him sigh.

He wanted to play too. He wanted to be a part of that. He wanted to belong. Throughout the day, innumerous activities like that would happen around camp, relaxing moments, swordplay classes, climbing competitions on the lava wall. It was everything Dan had dreamed about the whole school year. But, because of one dumb mistake, he wouldn’t be enjoying each and every moment here at camp. The moments that wouldn’t come back were now getting shorter and shorter.

As he was already used to take care of the Strawberry Fields, Dan didn’t really need to plan what to do. The walk to the storage shack, that was placed just at the edge of the Fields, was one that the Son of Persephone had already made a thousand times. Not only in summer, as some Campers could be led to believe. No, to take care of such a grand plantation, it was necessary to be there in the planting season, and in the harvest season too. They needed people tending to the plants when autumn came, and it was generally good to do checkups every other month. Dan was still young to take care of all of that, having just entered his teenage years, but, aside from the year rounders, he was one of the demigods who lived close to camp. SO, that chore could indeed be in his blood, but it was really with pure hard work that he honed I this talent.

‘And then,’ Dan treacherous mind added ‘you just _had_ to come and destroy everything, right?’

The wind was strong when Dan opened the door to the small storage room. It was not a very pretty and refined construction, constructed from raw wood and sporting a crocked roof. But it was steady, having been made more for functionality than for the aesthetics of it. Even so, someone tried to put together the divine symbols of Demeter, Dionisius and Persephone in a rushed carved ornament. When he opened the door, Dan caressed the strange scribble and smiled. He felt like, yeah, he could see the beauty in it.

To pick up the seeds and the tools was the easy part. He filed his little belt bags with the little strawberry grains thingies and tested the edge of some of the hoes. The old leather gloves also entered his little inventory, and Dan asked himself why he would need them. It was a pointless attempt to keep his hands clean, as he would most certainly leave the Fields covered with dirt as always.

Now the difficult part was when he got to the fields, because holy Hades. For some reason, Dan had thought that this would be an easy task, just make some holes and put some seeds in them, you know? Like every other time he har participated in the planting. Of course, Dan had thought that because he had forgotten the destruction he had caused.

Because of a very unfortunate incident, implicating a handful of matches and a ton of gasoline, Dan kind of had burned the entirety of the Strawberry Fields.

It was not, by any means intentional. So much work was lost, work that himself had done in the spam of one very long year. And seeing all the loss was enough to punish him. Just seeing the horrified looks from the people he spent so much time planting the Strawberry’s with was enough. But, of course, when Chiron suggested slash ordered that he and his friend Poli (who was also implicated in the fire) should help replant the Fields, Dan fervently agreed.

But now, he was confronted with a truly helpless sight. Half the Strawberry Fields were just sad piles of ashes and burned stumps. The fire hadn’t consumed the entirety of the plants, only the leaves and fruits, failing to destroy the solid roots of the bushes. If Dan had to plant anything in this almost apocalyptic scenario, nothing would flourish, and he would end up just wasting the seeds.

Dan retreated back to the shack.

He could not be a child of Demeter, but Dan liked to think that at least he would kind of know how to use a scythe without cutting himself, and that was already something, right? If he was expected to climb up a lava wall, he was allowed to use a tool so closely related to death, his mother being its queen, right?

After checking which of the tools had the sharpest blades, Dan also put on some protection pants and boots, both too large on his small body. But at least they would guarantee more protection than his jeans and sneakers. Then, dragging the scythe to the Fields, he started working.

It took hours.

Hours to see himself on a camp that had any possibility of being fertile. But, when he finished, the sun tall on the sky, Dan could feel the feeling of accomplishment taking over his body. Now, the earth was flat and smooth, every toasted root taken out of the way. Everything he needed now was some fertilizer, mix the dirt and, done. Little strawberries ready to grow up one more time.

Not for the first time after he had started planting, Dan thought about the cycles that his mother always on insistent in pointing out. Not his godly mother, his mortal one. She told him that the past, present and future were not a line, as well as the harvest did not indicate the end of a plantation. Every story and History on the world repeated itself in never ending circles, like with nature, that loved to be reborn, grow and die again, just to restart everything one more time.

In a luck strike, the Pegasi Stable weren’t that far from the now Flat Fields. It was a brief walk, even if the sun was now at its peak. And, Dan got lucky again when he discovered a barrow full of pegasus’ excrements, in the exact quantity that he needed to fertilize the burned part of the Fields. Happy with his finds, Dan hurried to draw one of the horses too.

“Hey, man, I will need ya to pull the plow,” Dan spoke gently, stroking the pegasus’ snout, “can ya do that?”

From there, the work became easier. He fastened the pegasus in the plow and, as Dan threw the poo on the ground, the animal did its job and turned over the dirt. However, even with the easy work, Dan felt the time pass. The sun finally giving up its midday shine and starting to descend in the sky.

In the end of the afternoon, Dan saw himself in the middle of a large space of soft, fertile dirt. The curls of his hair were stuck to his forehead, soaked in sweat, and he had a smile on his face. Also, he was almost sure that the smell from the excrements would not get out so easily from his clothes (or from his skin, really). But! Look around! That ground, so wrecked and dead, had been reborn. And, now, it was ready to receive life, yet again.

Dan stood still for what felt like days, smelling the earth and feeling the life just about to wake up around him. Only the neigh of the pegasus made him wake up from that sensation, and even them, something of it stuck with him. He took the animal and the cart back to the stables.

In the beginning of the morning, Dan had thought that the work he would have replanting the Fields would just be endless and meaningless. Now, after a whole day just working and working, the sensation of finishing was almost like a gift. A miracle. He now felt all the meaning behind putting a teeny tiny piece of life back into earth, where it would grow, give flowers and fruit and die again. It was not a pointless existence proceeded by death. It would create new seeds, and inside those seeds, the potential to perpetuate a beautiful and inexplicable thing.

To restart the cycle.

So, putting back into the earth the last bits of the seeds, distracted by his own thoughts of life and death, Dan didn’t notice a small figure with a guitar on the back walking towards him.

“Bro! Bro, what the heck!? Camp is crazy looking for you! Wher- Oh shoot, did you just… Spend a whole day like, planting? Like, without even stopping to _eat_? Just planting under the summer sun? What the Hades, man!”

“Hey, Poli!” Dan gave his friend a smile, gesturing proudly to the grounds surrounding him. “Life is death and everything is reborn! Yay!”

And he passed out.

**Author's Note:**

> So like, in my headcanon, demigods descended from minor gods can 1- Stay in the Cabins of Olympians who have similar power sets from their parents or 2- Have a Cabin created specifically for their godly parent, if they can’t fit into the Olympians power set and/or have 4+ children. This is a headcanon based not in fairness, but in practicality. There are 40+ gods in Greek Mythology, but a lot of them have similar reigns. I just can’t see Camp Half Blood having to build a new Cabin from scratch if a child of some other minor god appears. So, for example, the Muses and Asclepios stay together with Apollo, because their children would have similar tastes and needs. And Dan, Son of Persephone, could stay with the Demeter kids.  
> But like  
> Whatever  
> You do you  
> And I wanted to make a pretty cabin for my boi to live in for this one-shot


End file.
